


War Games

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-25
Updated: 2011-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 19:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was anyone who played the game dirtier than War, it would be Lucifer.</p><p>If there was one being Lucifer would see almost as his equal or extend some sort of favoritism to, it would be one horseman in particular: War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Games

**Author's Note:**

> _“Questions are a fire that needs feeding to survive_  
>   So just you let those flames die down.  
>  Trained by consequence and the lash  It leaves me breathless,  
> Their praise is a poison to us all  In the moonlight, their scars flash like jewelry 
> 
> _Get too precious, get locked up in a cage_  
>    Want to get, gotta risk, any move    
> Misconstrued and you're screwed  
>  Tongues flash and flick as if they're screaming  
>   Oh they lie just like a lover    
> Oh do they, those kisses will burn ...” 
> 
>  
> 
> Reptile by Them Crooked Vultures
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is fan-run and this writer is not officially affiliated with the CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., and other official affiliates tied to the TV Show "Supernatural." This user does not claim ownership to the official content of Supernatural and does not seek profit off of the work produced presently. Plagiarism of this current story will not be tolerated and will be reported following AO3's terms of service. The stories, additional characters I create, are mine. This story was not created for profit. Making profit is deemed copyright infringement unless sanctioned by copyright holders (i.e. CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., etc.). Copyright infringement can range from paying a fine to actual jail time. Please do not claim this story as yours! Please do not sell this story! Please do not reproduce this story! All violators will be reported and dealt with severely! 

If there was anyone who played the game dirtier than War, it would be Lucifer.

If there was one being Lucifer would see almost as his equal or extend some sort of favoritism to, it would be one horseman in particular: War.

Lucifer recalled his first moment meeting the horseman, still a favorite in Heaven and in the good graces of the Holy Spirit. Man has been created along with the decree that this new creation was above them all in rank and to be worshiped. Lucifer was no idiot to the idea of war, after all it was they who came storming in and stomped on other birthing religions, pagan gods, and spirits. But to revolt and cause a war amongst your own kind? Now that was something completely different to the angel, and it came to no surprise that War himself found him.

He was but a moth to a flame, and Lucifer was a forest fire. There was something so attractive about the angel through the mere fact he hotly refused to conform to anything that clashed with his views. War knew that if there was anyone to help...to be with...to aid...it would be Lucifer.

And oh was he right.

To gather War, Lucifer needed to go away from the United States and towards the now wet lands of North Korea. While Death can be raised in a hotbed of corpses with the proper sacrifice, words, etc., etc... War was the only horsemen he had to actively hunt down, the bastard consistently traveling about and never staying in one place without a good reason. It was only to be expected that War would be in an area where there was enough military and political power to engage in a full-on war with nations like the United States.

The way War pursued countries, cultures, groups, and individuals was a systematic strategy that would make wise Generals put to shame. However, it was necessary and approved by higher-ups and if War were to stray and extend his reach too far...chaos was surely to bloom. That’s why Lucifer needed War: to make that chaos happen and to help ensure that the Apocalypse will kick into high gear.

It was why he was leaning against a cherry-red Mustang in the structured parking lot of a lavish hotel, feeling the vehicle give a throaty purr despite the fact there was no driver or key in sight. The blonde allowed his index finger to run across the hood of the vehicle, feeling the metal underneath his skin begin to turn hot. On cue, the sound of footsteps reached his ear, the blonde feeling the curve of a smile grace his lips.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware you were given visiting hours now,” came the lazy drawl of an amused voice, the devil turning on his heels to see a well-dressed man in business attire, loosening his tie. Watered-down eyes of blue shinned brightly in the well-lit parking lot, extending his hand in greeting like a well-bred politician. “Sorry I didn’t come down sooner, stubborn old fool won’t listen to reason up there. Probably my fault,” he grinned, the devil shaking his head knowingly and taking the horseman’s hand.

“They let me out on good behavior,” the devil mused out, grin matching the horseman’s, “But you are quite a long way from home, Congressman.” War chuckled, widening his arms as if displaying the poor sap he was impersonating.

“Roger was feeding his unhealthy addiction for cigarettes just a night ago when I decided to crash-land before him. He was debating whether to accept a bribe from North Korea or decline, I helped him make that decision,” the male proudly proclaimed, quite pleased with himself he managed to find an ex-business analyst and current Congressman. Explains why he was the only gentleman in the area extremely well-dressed and with the largest estate. “Although, I suppose we’re not here to speak of my current endeavors, are we?”

The devil gently shook his head.

“Hmm, figured. Well, may I suggest we go elsewhere? If they find another American yuppie in here, they’re going to start shooting.”

  
**\---- xxx ---- xxx --- xxx --- xxx --- xxx --- xxx ----**   


The fallen angel found himself in the hallway of an entrance to a well-decorated home. Family photos were artistically arranged on side tables, the devil leaning gently down, eyes staring at grinning faces.

“Oh, you’re married? Congratulations.”

“Yes, but I’m afraid...it didn’t last...” the older being remarked as he walked deeper into the house. The devil followed slowly, eyes turning downward to see quite an unappealing sight.

Lucifer scrunched his nose in acknowledgement at the blonde woman that laid facedown in a pool of her own blood. Her toxic orange sundress and golden locks were matted with the crusted liquid, a bright apple-red heel hanging off of her foot as the other was still securely on. Her arm was awkwardly outstretched, as if she was reaching out to break her fall and fell on it wrong, stained pearls littered about. With all the lavish decor in the house of this Roger, it was quite easy to miss the obviously beaten to death body on the Persian rug (it should be noted that it will be quite a bitch to remove the bloodstains). Judging from the deep color of the blood and the hue of her skin, she has been dead for a good day or so. “We need to discuss your people skills...something tells me you are not doing it quite right,” the blonde sighed out heavily, thick sarcasm dripping from his quirked lips as he walked around the corpse gingerly.

His sensitive nose was not fond of the smell of decaying human flesh and her ungodly strong perfume. Ugh.

War paused in step and turned, staring at the mess on the floor before realization kindly gripped him. He seemed to have too mistaken it for some sort of artwork -- a sculpture from some obscure Italian or pegged-off famous from China. “ _Ah_...yes... Ignore the wife,” he began slowly, making a clicking sound with his tongue before giving a shrug of the shoulders in ready dismissal, “I got to really consider cleaning that up...”

“What a pleasant family you got,” Lucifer gave a sickening sweet smile that was all mocking and play, War only turned his grin up a notch, his entire being eager to goad the hot-headed angel. It was in his being to feed off of words, twist them into something harmful and slingshot it back in full-force. With Lucifer, while the fallen angel was a force not to be reckon with, it was with him was it so easy to poke and prod at open wounds. His Father complex only made it painfully easy, plus it didn’t help he would get a twisted high seeing the younger male get all riled up and pissy.

“Better than yours, I suppose.” All tongue-in-cheek, but he could feel eyes burn large hole into his being, begging him to try to step on his toes again. War merely chuckled, nestling his hands in his pockets as they entered the kitchen.

“You kept yourself busy, it seems,” Lucifer brushed past it somewhere behind him, and War knew that underneath their dialogue there was undeniably tension screaming. It’s been a millennia. What they shared before was absolutely nasty, corrupted, and expletive. There was that cliche to “flirt with Death,” but Lucifer moved past the cliche to flirt was something far more uncontrollable: War. For them to just sit around casually speaking of what has been missed, tauntingly poke at each, what is it like in the cage, and the weather was just all a facade.

“Yes...although, I just give a little nudge here and there. Humans do the rest of the work, I simply sit back and enjoy the show,” he grinned, finding himself in the middle of the kitchen before pausing in step, eyes studying the taller male. “Although...I suppose you would like to do some nudging now, since you finally graced us with your presence.”

Lucifer exhaled out heavily, hooded eyes staring quietly at the floor in pensive thought before bringing his head back up, lips twitching into the makings of something devious. War narrowed his eyes suspiciously but held his ground, “I’ll do more than nudge. Much more.” Of course, he was taunting him. Not willing to share with him his big ol’ plans, forcing him to prod at him more. Arrogant asshole.

“You know, you can always cut the whole ‘I’m big, bad, and mysterious’ and reveal to me your master plans,” the horseman bluntly informed, humor dribbled and sprinkled here and there, but the frustration was quite evident. He didn’t appreciate being kept out of the loop. The devil frowned and leaned against the kitchen counter, casually crossing his arms across his chest as he arched a brow. War knew that if he was anyone else: an angel, a demon, a vessel, or even one of his other brothers, he would be staring at the cruel sneer of the fallen angel and harsh repercussions. “It’s only common courtesy to level the playing fields,” he finished wryly, placing his hand beside Lucifer’s on the countertop, body partially caging in the fallen angel.   
Somewhere, deep inside the complexity and construction of his being, he liked to believe that Lucifer was afraid of him -- of all the Horsemen. They were all invincible, unable to achieve a state of nonexistence because it was simply impossible. No weapon on this earth could rid them for good, but Lucifer...Lucifer could face the sweet bells of Death. If the Apocalypse goes as predicted and Lucifer is slain, he is slain for good. Only a fool, or perhaps a genius, would resurrect or try frantically to piece back together a being who saw himself as a deity. War hoped there was an inkling of fear...that if the two went head-to-head, he would be unable to be killed. Try as you must, War cannot be tarnished. 

Yet Lucifer never flinches at the sight of danger or risky endeavors. Instead he is utterly calm...too calm...eerily calm. The incandescent figure would just stand there, eyes half-lidded like some sleepy feline and body posture reeking of laziness. Blue irises merely slosh in their allotted slots like morning waves in the middle of a California winter. Lips were still and remained secretive of their owner’s true feelings or reactions, somehow managing to taunt the horseman into a fit of adrenaline. It stung War’s ego that he couldn’t put the fear of God in the fallen angel, but it is what kept him so tame and compliant with the fallen angel. 

Lucifer was someone that would give him the illusion he held some sort of hold on him, before flipping the picture upside down. Fuck, it riled him up. He couldn’t fucking stand it... He was War! He has watched races attempt to kill the other, mothers devour their children because the battle has taken there food, their homes, their lives -- of strong kings sinking on their knees because tendons are cut -- of wives mourning slain husbands for a fruitless cause and a silly battle. He saw everything in red, and out of everyone this goddamn, arrogant asshole had the nerve to be utterly calm as can be. Yet he stood there, unaffected by his words,  the need to tear Lucifer’s vessel apart and shove himself into Lucifer’s tainted Grace, made a ragged exhale of air leave his lips. 

“Does it bother you that I don’t keep you well-informed of my thoughts?” came that quiet and thoughtful reply, and the bloodthirsty horseman could feel his blood boil. He was belittling him. Mocking him. Making him look like some nagging wife pestering her husband on why he was working late -- suspicious and paranoid. War could only give him an unamused look in retaliation, not trusting his tongue nor his hands which were in dire need of grabbing the devil’s vessel. A melodic chuckle left his lips, something War has heard from politicians, dictators, and purebred killers during a cocktail party. 

_“How is that policy of yours treating those pathetic rebels?”_

_“ **Ha ha** , ‘rebels’ implies that they are successful in their rebellion. Let’s not glorify peasants and their stupidity.” _

“I like it when you’re jealous and unnerved,” the devil finished, a ghost of a secretive smile breathing on his lips. Leaning forward to the horseman in his expensive Armani suit and other high-brand cologne, chapped lips found the curve of his left ear. War could smell something sweet and soothing off of the devil... Of warm cups of chai tea sitting on an eggshell-white windowsill to cool, but one could not miss the scent of old blood weaseled underneath. It left the horseman heady, mouth tempted to move toward the neck in his line of vision.  “It makes you irrational and aggressive, and you’ll do whatever you can to one-up me,” those lips scraped against his skin, making the base of his spine shudder while those words that were spoken in coy whisper. It only left him with mixed signals of arousal throughout his system. “I’d like to see you try.” The devil was taunting him once more, while speaking to him in a tone some teenager would use on his girlfriend, explaining in full detail of what trouble they could cause in the back of a movie theatre. _It’s quite simple. I sit down, you get on your knees and keep that mouth of yours occupied while I’ll enjoy the movie, too. Just deserts._

_Bon appétit!_

But War didn't want to be on his knees. No...not this time. 

Lucifer found his personal space incredibly invaded as he was shoved roughly further into the counter.

Things like watching entrails being tugged out of a corpse, for the sake of morbid curiosity and passing the time, hardly fazed War. He merely would watch, squint at every small detail, shrug his shoulders, critique the process like a directer for theatre, change the blocking next go around, continue on with life. It was terribly hard to pull one over War, but if anyone was dirtier and more shades of wrong, it would be Lucifer. If anyone could make him irritable, it would be Lucifer.

The fallen angel was pinned between the meeting of counter and standing wall, body ungodly freezing in comparison to his own that was a constant furnace of heat and melting gun powder. Doing something obscene with his tongue, raking it across the roof of his own mouth, those hooded eyes of the devil’s glinted in precursor to something terrible about to occur. War tried not to read too much into it, instead harshly unzipping the blonde’s jeans, nearly breaking the zipper. It had to be illegal in this country for anyone to communicate with their tongue in such a vulgar and vile way. Plucking at the button, he didn’t even bother tugging the piece of clothing down.

Sun-kissed hand plunged into the vessel’s pants, shamelessly weaseling his fingers towards a twitching organ. Pushing past the elastic of the vessel’s boxer briefs, nails scraped against sensitive skin before taking a firm grip. That smug grin left the devil as he felt fingers caress tender skin, lips briefly parting in preparation for the body to completely forget that he was still capable of breathing through his nose.

War could only smirk in satisfaction, beginning to increase his advances on the stiffening organ in his hand. He wasn’t surprised whatsoever, instead feeling quite assured that there is nothing he couldn’t conquer. Lucifer had to realize that being trapped in a cage for a millennia or so doesn’t necessarily leave you walking out as a satisfied individual. It was only common sense that the devil would be nothing in his hands...but...with the way the blonde was panting breathlessly...

The way he would gnaw on his bottom lip, worrying away pink flesh, before sweeping it away with the slow draw of the tongue...

The way he would give these throaty moans that would hitch in the middle, a stronger groan in arousal fulfilling its duty soon after...

The way he looked all the more fuckable with a look a virgin will give her first time romping through the sheets...

The devil was putty in his hands.

 _F-Fuck_...was it getting hot in here all of a sudden?

War bit his tongue to the point where it bled, the taste of copper and something that reminded him of the exhaust of a car filling his taste buds, left hand clawing at the wall beside the angel. He refused to allow himself to give some sort of vocal indication that he was by far rock hard, highly considering ripping their clothes off and finishing him right than and there. Watching the devil become a mewling mess of compliance, hips weakly thrusting against his hand with his neck exposed in submission was making his own hips slowly move in the practice of a thrust.

“ _Ah_ \--” the blonde arched his back, tilting his hips a certain angle in the process, in such a way he swore that the devil was begging him. Lucifer begging. Oh god... It made his body howl at him for keeping them so apart. Shoving his body against the fallen angel’s, hips rolling against Lucifer’s despite the fact his hand was still trapped within, he could do to hell with pleasantries. He was going to fuck the angel senseless.

The right side of the devil’s lips curved upward gradually, eyes suddenly bright with daring mischief, a low chuckle building in his chest. War furrowed his brows in question, watching in mild confusion as Lucifer burst into a fit of laughter as if he just pulled a sick joke on the Horseman. Why did he get the sudden feeling he was just conned? Toyed with? Made a fool of? The shorter male pursed his lips in growing embarrassment and wild rage, not at all amused with this little act. The devil went even as far to playfully thrusting against his hand, mocking his previous breathless moans. Yanking his hand out of his jeans as if he was stung, a look of deep insult gripped him as he took a step back.

“Is that what you want out of me, old friend?” Lucifer finished laughing, yet that humorous sound continued to ring about in the kitchen or was it in his skull? The blonde adjusted himself against the wall, as if he was trying to make himself comfortable against the unfeeling and unmovable surface of custard wallpaper. “You got to try a bit harder,” he gave a mocking look of sympathy, like a teacher giving helpful criticism to a failing student. Clicking his tongue, as he cracked his neck, the sound strangely enough sending coils of energy around his spinal cord, “Maybe you should try to put up a decent _fight, War._ ”

Ah, there came the second direct punch to the gut. Without even lifting a finger, the fallen angel proved to once more be sardonic in language and shamelessly blunt. Lucifer was a director’s wet dream or a sociopath’s newfound idol. The fallen angel knew how to take up facades and play them for each individual. Whether he may be playing as an obvious trickster to pretending to be alien to the entire earthly realm, he was overall the master of personalities when needed. The way he maneuvered himself across the board -- why it would make Generals tug their hair out in fury. For War? Oh, he knew a challenge when he saw one.

Lucifer wanted to fight? Play dirty? So be it. He’ll be more than happy to take the gloves off.

“Get in the fucking bedroom. _Now_ ,” he seethed out through his teeth, Lucifer arching a graceful brow in laughing amusement at the order. Instead of resisting he raised his hands in mocking surrender, moving past him to follow suit.

“ _Ooo_ , someone’s angry. I shiver in fear,” he barked out in laughter, the Horseman working his jaw in growing frustration at how utterly childish and obnoxious Lucifer truly was. Lucifer had to be the only being in the world who found his own humor...well, humorous. Honestly, the fallen angel had the heart of a six-year old boy.

The devil was in the process of pulling his shirt over his head, oozing out by far too much arrogance it was surely going to send Heaven in fit of furry and disturbance. How was it again the Winchesters were having a hard time tracking Lucifer? Sheer cockiness alone could be felt from a five state radius.

“You’re going to gawk or help?” War frowned, moving towards the smug blonde, reaching out to pull his vessel’s jeans down. He was aware of eyes staring gleefully at him, like some newborn imp who saw everything as an amusing game to be played. Cold fingers scaled his jaw, lips searching from his, but finding no response. “Oh no...I didn’t hurt your feelings now, did I?” a sympathetic look fell on the blonde’s face, but the tone was absolutely mocking. War could only feel his hackles become raised as he began to savagely undo his tie, his free hand pushing the devil in the direction of the bed.

Tie now loose on his neck, his hands were rather free to aggressively pin the narcissistic bastard on the bed. Calloused hands roughly flipped him onto his stomach, earning a low chuckle from the blonde.

“Oh, from behind...so original -- hey!” Lucifer smirked into the comforter, inhaling something reminiscent of cinnamon and something rather earthy. It was simply his job to give his companion a hard time, always loving the pure idea that he could infuriate something completely different from his own realm of existence and power. Plus, he would fondly like to point out that they bickered and fought like an old married couple. But bending him over the bed to tie his hands behind his back? This was far from married couple material, and as much as he wanted to snakily issue this out, he found himself turned over so his weight was on his hands.

Wiggling further onto the bed, hands pressed down on the juncture where legs and hip met, thumbs digging into his pelvic bone. Remaining still became a feat when he became aware of hot breath against the underside of his rather alert organ, a promise of what was to come, a knowing smile dancing on the devil’s lips. Than it left him, his brows simply furrowed but nothing more as he watched War come to him. Crawling over him, the older entity purposely dragged his clothed self against sensitive flesh, the feeling of clean cotton making a muscle in his left calf twitch. It was when the cold metal of a belt buckle caught the underside and raked itself selfishly against him did he grit his teeth.

Lips caught his in something rather gentle, soft flesh pressing against his own as if he was something fragile. Lucifer childishly wished to not respond simply because matters that obviously needed taking care of were being openly neglected, but War’s tongue was slowly coaxing his lips to open. It didn’t take long for the devil to become compliant, responding with his own that wished to bully and push the horsemen into a more reckless pace. War held his ground and enforced the pace, slowly increasing the intensity whenever he felt fit. It was when they finally hit something suitable to Lucifer’s taste, feeling War’s fingers dig into the side of his skull as he licked a pattern on the roof of his mouth did it suddenly leave him with wet suction of sounds.

Hooded eyes watched him meticulously as the entity busied himself nipping somewhere by his neck, before traveling downwards to his bare chest. Teeth scrapped angrily at his right nipple, a low hiss leaving past his lips before it translated to a low grow when teeth clamped around the pink flesh. Body shifted underneath the horsemen but found it harshly reprimanded when teeth only closed in more before leaving him when he remained still, eyes now thin slits. The abused flesh was bleeding weakly, blood sluggishly beading as War continued on downward.

It was when he hit his navel did he have to crane his neck to see, tongue licking the backside of his teeth in anticipation. So close to his mark...so close... A soft kiss was placed on the tip, a low purr filling the pit of his being in approval. Still at an obvious disadvantage, the younger troublemaker spread his legs a tad wider, feeling a rather deliberate vainglorious grin stretch his lips wide. The devil could only simply relish the fact that once again success was certainly his. War can claim to be the master of conquering, but Lucifer liked to fully believe he was not so easily conquerable like one of the entity’s daily feats. He was _Lucifer_. The _Devil_. The _first_ angel to rebel.

The hot enveloping of a mouth made every taut muscle in the vicinity become far more stretched out, threatening to snap until he was a limp rag doll. A hitch in his own breath made his fingers press against the cool mattress underneath him, feeling his own hips arch into the engulfing heat, finding himself feeding off of his own breathy pants. Lucifer supposed there was something terribly vain about become aroused through simply yourself, but all he could do was lean his head to the right. Eyes searched ardently to see what was taking place, and the sight before him made him polish his left incisor hungrily with his tongue.

He could already feel something terribly snarky bubbling somewhere in his throat, and he simply saw no point in resisting. So opening his mouth, after catching his breath when he felt himself hit the back of the older entity’s throat, he more or less felt the words slip past his lips than proudly deliver, “How fitting. War sucking the Devil’s cock.”

Teeth scrapped rather aggressively against tender flesh before cold air made the pain leave a stinging aftertaste, a harsh profanity leaving the blonde.

War was by now quite far from the devil who was busy glaring at him, the horseman skillfully meeting it with his own. Giving a ‘hmph’ in a sign he was done with the staring match, he turned his head aside with the upturn of his nose. The two were children together who thrived off of bullying the other, tossing their weaknesses at each other whenever one of them wanted to break the rather unhealthy relationship. It hardly mattered what they may say or do, the two were bound to forever be close to the other. War is hardly far from the Devil, after all.

“ _Hey_ ,” came the low whine, the child now realizing that its plaything was far from responding to him, “Come back.”

The older male sighed heavily through his nostrils as he shrugged out of his dinner jacket, carefully draping it over a nearby chair. He was aware of the eyes boring holes into his skull as he calmly unbuttoned his shirt, quite assured that if Lucifer had his hands to use they would be ripping at his expensive wardrobe. So with an easy smile, he listened to the bellying growl of the beast on the bed, annoyed with this waiting around and not getting immediate attention. A goddamn bratty child at heart in the form of a fallen angel who has seen the Earth rotate too many times to count.

It was when he slipped his shirt off and meticulously folding it, did he turn his gaze to the glowering blonde. Chuckling, watered down eyes staring at the swift work of his fingers, “How fitting, the Devil begging War to suck his cock.” Two could play this game...but it was the same game they’ve been playing before the angel’s Fall. To push at buttons, hiss and spat, plot and bare their teeth, and than a rather unneeded cock fight (pun always intended) to see who would dominate for the day.

“Obnoxious ass,” Lucifer grumbled, giving a rather disinterested look to the ceiling, the older entity gently shaking his head knowingly.

“You never did tell me what you were planning on doing?” he brought up casually, finished placing his clothes aside, moving back to the petulant blonde. Lucifer made a noncommittal sound and shrugged his shoulders, collarbone attempting to burst from his skin. “How about I decimate the states? Make them turn against each other -- all internal?” he drawled off, fingers scaling across a bent knee before slipping underneath it, a chuckle leaving the blonde’s lips unwillingly at the ticklish sensation. “Oh...I’d love to see the heads roll,” the Horseman grinned, before bringing his fingers to his mouth, tongue slicking his index finger.

While the words may have sounded appetizing to some bloodlust dictator, the words held no effect on the devil. He was by far more interested with what War was doing with that index finger, but the idea of War bringing spontaneous chaos to the point of combusting the United States would cause too much unneeded attention at the moment.

“Or you can simply enlighten me, Lucifer...” Fingers moved to the underside of his thighs, wet path being left in its wake before scrapping the dip were the underside of a left thigh met backside.

The blonde tutted, eyes closed yet brows were arched in arrogant reproach, scoffing into the rather cool air, “Why don’t you shove that canary in a goldmine plan where the sun doesn’t shine, and do -- ” Petulant, selfish and incredibly powerful being he may be, he knew how to shut the blonde up. Muscles and flesh tightened rather immediately at the intrusion of two digits, fingers making a rather aggressive job of stretching and relaxing the muscles. War gave a wide smirk as he leaned forward, feeling legs rub against his waist as if needing to wrap themselves around it rather immediately.

Lips found parted ones that breathed out in gentle pants at the fingers that continued to work him, forcefully pushing the devil into a growing furry of intertwining tongues. War could feel Lucifer’s vessel arch his chest into his own in a sign that oxygen was needed, but the Horseman refused. Instead he pressed his mouth deeper into the kiss, tongue beginning to take a rather aggressive role in conquering and claiming the entire expanse of Lucifer’s mouth. It was only when teeth slammed into a deadly shut over it did a feral growl leave the entity. Drawing back, nursing the abused organ in his mouth, War snorted like some disgruntled steed.

“I’d be careful, War,” came the calm words, but War simply curled his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, watching that look of complete control begin to melt off. It was a matter of a minuet of maneuvering was the devil shoving his hips into his fingers, complaint sounds leaving him but still smothered by the expected panting. Gradually drawing back, a soft groan at the loss made the older male smile to himself, knowing better than to say anything that can be seen as too harsh. He would rather die than jeopardize the perfect situation and opportunity he has once again found himself in.

Hands adjusted the devil’s legs, pulling the blonde’s body closer to his until he could feel his erection by his thigh. Yet he remained put, not moving, watching on cue as the blonde began to squirm like a child who never heard of the concept of holding still.

“What are you waiting for?” the words fell out into a dark spat in frustration, eyes now thin slits of a color that looked far from human or relatively normal on the color circle. War could feel the Devil’s essence push against his, silently prodding and looking for some sort of crack in his wiring and hardware.

“Waiting for you to tell me your plans.”

Lucifer huffed and scowled, muttering something dark under his breath that sounded terribly offensive and nasty before given something that looked like a nod. “Will you please just finish what you started?” came the harsh snap of tongue and words all in one, and War could only grin and oblige.

“As my fearless leader, commands,” came the mocking reply, a sweet smile dancing on his face, and before Lucifer could give him a reprimanding look, he pressed himself against the devil. A low hiss left the blonde, the older entity gnashing his teeth as resistance was meeting him. Digging a thumb into the devil’s pelvic bone only made that low hiss turn into a frightening growl, a deep rumbling occurring in the base of his belly and thickening into something monstrous. War could care less, he was in. Muscles relaxed under his cruel manipulation, and for someone who was absolutely frozen on the outside, he was furnace inside. Despite how many times he may have done this to the fallen angel, it always managed to surprise him.

War started out at an ungodly place, feeling himself tear tissue, and the only evidence of some sort of pain was the low hisses emitting from the devil. It didn’t take long for the blonde to soon be groaning, fingers scratching at the comforter underneath him in some strange attempt to hold on or break free. War could only stare at the image before him: the devil in a submissive state, giving out delectable moans, and all his. He could be as possessive and utterly violent with the devil, and he’d come back.

Pelvic bone was slamming against him, surely to leave interesting bruisings on them both, but that was far from the devil’s mind. All seemingly coherent thoughts and trains of logic have completely derailed, his mind blissfully on the brink of shutting off. If it wasn’t for the fact that completely shutting all mental thinking would leave his essence destroying Nick, the room would possibly be in a glorious sea of otherworldly light. Instead Lucifer opted with what he could, finding himself moaning shamelessly into the dark room.

Fingers struggled to weasel themselves out of their bond, wrists rubbing against each other in an attempt to wiggle out. It was all rather useless, his hands completely numb and sending dull throbs of shudders and shocks across his arms. It only made him writhe more, War instantly hissing and growling like some provoked dog. Hands would hold him securely, fingers holding on too tightly, the devil feeling his vessel wince at the severity of it.

War continued on, madly driven and focused on the task at hand. Lucifer was never one to lay still, to take it like a compliant and obedient angel. He was always squirming, moving about, screwing up his pace, and doing absolutely everything possible to make it harder for him. It was the small things that added up, and it only made him increase his pace. The sound of wet flesh sliding in and out accompanied by the Morning Star’s musical moans was but a beautiful symphony. He knew that if this kept up, that if kept himself in-tuned to the sounds and how utterly perfect it felt to be inside the devil, he would be over soon.

Lucifer suddenly did something amazing, enough to make his thrusts completely tactless and restless. He was mewling like a kitten that was stroked the right way or was in dire need of some sort of attention. There laid the blonde, locks of hair clinging onto his sweaty forehead as he moaned and mewled, hips moving in an attempt to meet him halfway. It was a few minuets in did he see what was the reason for Lucifer’s sudden change in tone. The neglected organ of his vessel would occasionally rub perfectly against his stomach whenever his body was moved a certain way, leading to sensitive flesh rubbing against his skin.

Snaking a hand out to attend to it, the devil was soon begging the horseman to quicken. He was snarling and moaning in his native tongue, words beautifully leaving his lips but the meaning utterly sinful. Muscles around his abdomen were twitching and spazzing underneath skin, feeling his own breath hitch at how physically a mess the devil was becoming. Lucifer would try vainly to utilize some sort of authority in his tone, but with the way he was moving it fluttered into desperation.

“ _Fuck_ ,” and the word never sounded so eloquent in the Horseman’s entire life until it left the fallen angel who was gnawing on his lower lip, “Close. Close.”

Fingers dug into the comforter as an interesting mixture of a low purr and moan sloshed out of the blonde’s mouth, arching his hips into the air before sinking back onto the bed in release. It was only a matter of seconds before the Horseman came in tow, feeling his body slowly begin to undergo the process of relaxation and instant sleep. Slipping out, he walked in the direction of the bathroom as if he has been living in this house for years. Coming back with a towel, he tossed it at the blonde who murmured something indecipherable in response. Crawling on the bed, lying on his back, he turned his head to the close-eyed devil. He finally was free of the tie around his wrists, having it been torn straight through the middle and being tossed somewhere into the deep confines of the room.

“Oh, we should try to do this a few more times...just to celebrate further our reunion,” War cheekily spoke, blue eyes of amusement meeting his own as a brow was cocked.

Lucifer was quick to respond, never short of a witty response, stretching his body on the bed, “Nothing says scandalizing the neighbors than watching their pride and joy of a politician sleeping with the devil.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but they may not be as surprised as you would like them to be,” War grinned, scooting closer to the devil who was now staring at him warily. “Deal is of no deal if you can’t deliver, old friend. What are you planning on doing?” Lucifer sighed, giving a rather mocking reluctant look before explaining what he was planning on doing. Of how he would utilize all the Horsemen, make it a fair game for Sam, dealing with the other angels, and so forth. To no one else would Lucifer share his plans, thoughts, of his dealings in the Cage and to no one else would he give himself to another.

For if there was anyone who played the game dirtier than Lucifer, it would be War.

If there was one being War would see almost as his equal or extend some sort of favoritism to, it would be one angel in particular: Lucifer.


End file.
